Dear Alfred
by UsagiChan22
Summary: After a life of silently watching the world turn, Matthew Williams has passed away. However, in a final letter to his brother, he shares the results of his observations with the world and asks for one final promise...


**A/N – Hello Everyone! I was just looking at my old fanfiction account and got a little bit nostalgic, so I decided to repost one of my old stories. I personally like this piece because of the descriptions in it, but I'll let you be the judge. This was inspired by an AMV on Youtube to the song You Raise Me Up. It was the Celtic Woman version. Please forgive me, for I wrote this a long time ago and my writing style has greatly improved since then.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, nor the song You Raise Me Up, nor the YouTube video which I mentioned.**

The warm sun shone down, kissing the emerald green hills and caressing the tall oaks that interrupted their vast expanse. Birds chirped to each other in a melodic conversation, telling secrets and sharing stories that could never be translated into human speech. It would've been a perfect spring day, if weathered graves did not spot the rolling hills, and if the sunshine didn't feel so cold on the people's skin.

It was a solemn event, as funerals ought to be. The bird calls seemed foreign and melancholy to the dearly beloved gathered there. For the world had lost a friend that it rarely remembered it had. Now each shed tear and consoling glance was bound to determine that Mathieu Williams would never be forgotten again.

"A moment of silence please, to remember what has been lost." The world bowed their heads in respect, quite literally as all the nations had attended.

The assembly was gathered around a gleaming black coffin. A Canadian flag of bright red and brilliant white was draped over the darkness. However respectful the tribute may have been, all Alfred Jones could think about was tearing it apart. He couldn't help but think that if he tore off the flag and unlatched the coffin, his brother would pop out with an exclamation of "Maple!" and all would be right with the world.

"Al," a warm hand rested on his shoulder as a comforting voice addressed him. Alfred looked into his green eyes, seeing an equal mix of sorrow and pity. Arthur and Mathieu were close, but not nearly as close as the Canadian and Alfred. That special bond is something that came from being twins, he supposed.

Alfred wiped away a single tear from his cheek and nodded, putting an arm around the Brit, partially to comfort the other man, but mostly to comfort himself.

"Thank you," said the clergy-man, breaking the silence. As people began to file forward to place their flowers on the grave-site, the priest's voice interrupted.

"Just one more thing," he began, "a special request of sorts, from our…dearly departed. I was making my rounds in the hospital, and I had a lengthy conversation with Mathieu. He asked me to read this letter aloud, when the time came. I'm assuming this was the time he was referring to. Addressed to Alfred F. Jones, never sent."

A murmur went through the crowd. The quiet nation never had much to say in life, so what could he have to tell them in death? Most of the nations were hoping to get this affair over with. Mathieu never really…branched out, like most of the countries did, so the percentage of attendees that had actually made his acquaintance was small, those who were close to him even smaller.

The priest cleared his throat, unfolded the letter, and began to read…

_Dear Alfred,_

_How are you doing? I'm fine, considering, well, everything. You actually just left from visiting. It feels a bit strange writing to you when I just saw you an hour ago, but I don't know how many more chances I'll get to write at all. I know you promised to be 'my hero' and get me out of here, but you don't need to pretend. I'm going to be blunt, I know I'm dying. I'm not blind to the way the doctors look at me when they pass my room or check my readings. But really, it's fine. This place isn't so bad. The people are nice, and I don't' need to share a room. The cooking even tastes just like back home, when Arthur would cook for us! (take that as you will) Just remember to feed Kumajiro for me, eh?_

_Despite my rambling, I do have a point in writing to you. We're nations, Al, and we've seen things few people can even imagine, and I just want to try to leave the world a better place than when I came into it._

_Throughout time there's been fighting, and bloodshed. No one can possibly count the tears that have fallen from our eyes. We've had more hardship thrust upon us than anyone, human or nation should be forced to bear. I know we all have scars left by our histories. These are pasts and truths that we can't erase. Our past actions are done and over with, whether we regret them or not. It's no use dwelling on such events, because if we do, we risk building a wall that separates us from each other, and when one another is all you have, that is something you can't afford to do._

_We fight and bicker and something quite literally wage war with each other. We injured and been injured, wounded to the point of no return and somehow finding the strength to come back once again. Very few people can understand how we nations can aim to kill one day, then be shaking hands with our prospective target the next. But then again, very few people understand the kind of bonds that develop when you've been through what we have._

_And so I beg you, as my final request, I guess you could say, that you will help everyone to not let these bonds break. If they die, then we die, because without one another to lean on, we have nothing, and we are nothing. Sorry if I sound a little sentimental. I guess dying can do that to ya, eh? I love you Al, and I don't know what's waiting on the other side, but whatever happens, I'll miss you. I'll miss all of you._

_~ Mathieu Williams_

The crowd was quiet as death itself. More than a couple of people were in tears, and others were simply shocked. Partially shocked at how eloquent the quiet nation really was, but mostly because they realized how true his words were. Ludwig now sat in peace next to Alfred, France lent Arthur his handkerchief, which the other accepted gratefully. Old enemies sat under and unspoken treaty of unbreakable friendship. Through times of war and times of peace, everyone had unconsciously considered one another as part of one large, albeit dysfunctional, family.

Alfred sighed. He and Arthur walked out of the cemetery in silence, as Alfred pondered his brother's words. Perhaps now, instead of crying for the sadness of his brother's death, he could shed a tear of joy over what a wonderful life he lived, and the beautiful words he wrote. The world had truly lost a great person that day. The final words of his brother's letter rang through his head.

_I'll miss you. I'll miss all of you._

Alfred looked up to the sky, "We'll miss you too, Matt."


End file.
